


I'm Yours

by redtribution



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anon Prompt, F/M, Fluff, Lizzington - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3754003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtribution/pseuds/redtribution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liz and Red kiss for the first time, lubricated by the song "I'm Yours" by The Script. For an anonymous prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Yours

The clock on Liz’s computer read 9:47 p.m. Liz yawned and stretched, looking up from her computer screen for the first time in hours. Ressler, Samar, and even Cooper had left hours ago, all dropping in to attempt to persuade Liz to leave the research for tomorrow. Each time, she had turned them down. Liz was desperate to distract herself from her empty hotel room. If work would do the trick, she would work.

Aram had been the last to leave, his eyes bright as he wished her goodnight, despite the lateness of the hour. He had offered to stay and help Liz research, but when it became clear that Liz might not go home at all tonight, she had told him to leave. He had accepted gratefully.

Now, sitting in her office, Liz heard a noise coming from beyond her door. She tensed, pulling her firearm out of the desk with quiet hands. With calculated steps, Liz paced to the door, pressed herself up against the doorframe, and then swung herself around it.

“FBI! Freeze!” She shouted to nothing.

Liz felt immediately foolish as she took stock of the situation. She had been right: she had heard a noise, but there was no danger involved. It appeared that Aram had accidentally left his Pandora account playing on his computer. Rolling her eyes, Liz lowered her gun and made her way to the desk.

As she was about to turn it off, however, the unfamiliar opening chords of a song caught her attention. She paused to listen, caught up in the soft strumming of a guitar. A slight smile on her face, Liz began swaying back and forth in time with the song.

_“You touch these tired eyes of mine_

_And map my face out line by line…”_

The post office was empty; no one was around to see her. Liz set her gun down on Aram’s desk. As the melody plucked onward, Liz spun softly on her heel…

And stopped.

There, standing by the stairwell, was Raymond Reddington.

The look on his face was somewhere in between amusement and tenderness. He leaned against the railing, his head cocked to the side, the corners of his mouth uplifted.

“How long have you been there?” Liz asked, her face heating.

Reddington laughed and pushed off from the railing. “Not long. I saw your little display with the gun. You know, if I had been an intruder, you would have failed miserably to apprehend me.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “You _are_ an intruder,” she pointed out, but there was no malice behind the statement.

Things had been changing with Reddington lately. For years, now, Liz had kept her defenses up around Reddington. Lately, though, something was different. She had felt herself softening toward him. She couldn’t put her finger on _why_ exactly, but her trust in him had grown enormously.

Reddington began moving toward Liz, cutting of her train of thought. With a slight incline of the head, he offered his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

Liz smiled, then, in her reserved way. “Alright, then,” she said. She slid her hand into Reddington’s, and he pulled her close.

_“I may not have the softest touch…”_

Reddington’s thumb caressed Liz’s hip ever so gently.

_“I may not say the words as such…”_

Liz couldn’t stand the intensity of his gaze on hers. Her eyes dropped to his lips, a perfect cupid’s bow carved there.

_“And though I may not look like much_ _  
I'm yours”_

Reddington squeezed Liz’s hand gently.

_And though my edges may be rough_

Liz examined the lines of Reddington’s face. She thought about the mounting trust she felt toward him.

_I never feel I'm quite enough_

It occurred to her that here, in Reddington’s arms was the safest she had felt since Tom. The way he looked at her was so open, so protective. She shivered.

_It may not seem like very much_ _  
but I'm yours_

Liz saw the moment Reddington decided to kiss her. She watched as his eyes lit with a fire, then slid closed. She watched as he tipped and dipped his head. Her heart leapt…

“Red, wait,” she said softly.

Reddington pulled back quickly. His cheeks lit up, and he looked away. “I’m sorry, Lizzie,” he said, releasing her hand. “That was…I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

Reddington turned and began to slip away, but Liz stopped him.

“Wait, Reddington!” she said, all softness gone. She grabbed his forearm, tugging at him to prevent him from leaving. He stopped, still facing away from her.

Liz took a deep breath. “I want to kiss you,” she admitted bluntly. Reddington stilled.

“But before I—we do, I need you to hear something. I—I’m sorry.”

Reddington turned to face her at last, his brow furrowed. “What? Lizzie, no. Why would you—”

“Just listen,” she said. She slid her hand down his forearm until his hand swallowed hers. “You know that I’ve had trouble trusting you for a long time.” At her words, Reddington’s eyes filled with pain. She moved on quickly. “That isn’t the case anymore! I…you make me feel…safe and…” Liz made a noise of frustration. This sort of thing wasn’t her forte. “I’m not good at this. What I’m trying to say is that I haven’t been careful. With you. I know I’ve hurt you. And I just wanted to say—”

Liz never got to finish.

Reddington pulled her to him. Liz’s breath escaped her all at once. Their lips met, and time melted.

When at last they broke apart, Reddington took a long, slow breath. Then, with a slight smile, he cupped Liz’s face in his hands.

“I guess we’re even.”

_I may not have the softest touch_

_I may not say the words as such_

_I know I don’t fit in that much_

_But I’m yours._


End file.
